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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30086799">One Year</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/singmetothesun/pseuds/singmetothesun'>singmetothesun</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Thunderbirds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Addiction recovery, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Injury Recovery, Past Drug Addiction, Sad with a Happy Ending, Scars, implied/referenced suicidal ideation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:01:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>998</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30086799</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/singmetothesun/pseuds/singmetothesun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the beginning of a new day and Gordon takes the time to reflect on the last 12 months.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>One Year</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>It's my first recovery anniversary today so I just wanted to write this as a celebration and my movieverse Gordon was the perfect candidate.</p>
<p>Warnings: Mentions of coma, scars, past suicidal ideation and self-harm, past substance addiction, and an eating disorder.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He lay still, heart pounding in his chest as he watched the numbers on the nightstand.</p>
<p>23:56</p>
<p>Almost there.</p>
<p>The island beyond his bedroom was its usual version of silent. The distant hum of the power generators along with the soothing lapping of the ocean against the beach and the chirping of the jungle wildlife, all faded into the background noise they'd become accustomed to over the years.</p>
<p>And those still to come that he might not have been around to enjoy.</p>
<p>He tried not to shudder, taking a few deep breaths. This was exactly why he hadn't wanted to think about the day of the accident when reflecting on his recovery. With help from his therapist, he'd chosen a date more meaningful for his recovery focus. A day he could celebrate the future he <em>did </em>have.</p>
<p>The anniversary of the accident itself several months ago had been hell, just as he'd expected it would be. But a <em>recovery</em> anniversary was what was helping him move forwards.</p>
<p>They weren't neglecting the accident date, far from it. Gordon might detest talking about it, but he trusted his therapist and so, little by little, they were working through it at a pace that was comfortable for him. PTSD was likely to stick with him for years to come and they'd take it as it came.</p>
<p>He'd spent four and a half months in hospital, physically recovering from the horrific injuries he'd sustained, and further months in day programs with exercises to follow. He still bore the scars, and no doubt would for the rest of his life.</p>
<p>The day he was <em>mentally</em> ready to approach everything was the day he picked.</p>
<p>He hadn't had a choice with the physical recovery, he'd woken up in hospital after being comatose for two months, the doctors and nurses in charge of everything while he was in bed barely capable of anything. That recovery and rehabilitation were just a given.</p>
<p>He'd had a choice with his PTSD therapy though.</p>
<p>00:00</p>
<p>Midnight.</p>
<p>He'd made it. One Year.</p>
<p>It was rounded to the day, anyway. To the hour was mostly hazy, swamped in the daze of the admission process. The staff taking down his details and the many physical health tests. His suitcase searched and so many things removed for his and others safety. Then the whole overwhelming tidal wave of emotions hit from realising exactly where he was and what he was there for.</p>
<p>Inpatient treatment. To get better.</p>
<p>Dad and Scott had hugged him goodbye and driven away with a final wave. He knew it would have been too much to have all of his brothers there. They were back on the island finalising the set-up of International Rescue.</p>
<p>The irony wasn't lost on him.</p>
<p>So, the journey had begun. Eight months of physical therapy behind him and now up to three months in intense PTSD and cross-addiction treatment.</p>
<p>Most of the residents in the private rehab with him were there to detox and start their clean and/or sober journeys.</p>
<p>The thing about eating disorders is that abstinence is not part of recovery. Neither is food the actual addiction. The patterns of behaviour were the same as the fellow addicts and alcoholics around him, the manner of using to avoid dealing with trauma. His dopamine hit came from being in control and seeing the pleasing numbers on the scales after hours of intense workouts.</p>
<p>He controlled his food intake strictly, something learned from childhood during his many years of intensive training for the Olympics. He couldn't pinpoint exactly when it had gotten out of hand, but his eating disorder behaviour was easily traced back far enough to be a concern.</p>
<p>Dad and his brothers had been devastated when they'd found out.</p>
<p>But with addiction, the secretive nature is textbook behaviour. As an athlete, nobody batted an eyelid at him. Gordon had spent his teenage years appearing health-conscious to meet the extreme standards demanded by his coach.</p>
<p>Safe to say that Team USA Swimming and all other competing teams were under investigation. Like it would go anywhere.</p>
<p>Another complication was the rapid reliance on his prescription meds post-discharge from the hospital. The combination of the unmanageable eating disorder and self-medicating with painkillers had led to some extremely dark days. Thoughts of hurting himself and worse.</p>
<p>But he was still here.</p>
<p>And he'd chosen recovery for himself. That was the most important thing. His therapist had warned that if he put his family first then he wouldn't get where he wanted. That didn't mean he couldn't involve or rely on his family to lift him through it. His support network was vital.</p>
<p>It meant that the choice to admit himself to inpatient treatment was solely for himself.</p>
<p>His wellbeing. His future.</p>
<p>And now Gordon was lying here, in his own bed back home, one year later. He chose recovery every day, even on the days where it seemed impossible. The bad ones were the most important in that sense.</p>
<p>Sometimes he was defeated and at first that had disheartened him, sent him into a spiral of self-doubt. Until he'd been reminded that it was part of the process and no one expected him to be perfect, and to even try to be so was only causing further harm.</p>
<p>The support from his family meant everything. It always had over the years. They had an unwavering belief in him, from when he was tiny, newly swimming, to now with the ocean as his calling.</p>
<p>Rolling over, turning his back to the clock and smiling, he breathed out all of the anxiety that had been keeping him awake. Feeling his body relax and sleep starting to creep upon him, he wondered if Dad would let him learn to pilot Thunderbird 3.</p>
<p>He was already fully trained for Thunderbird 4, he was an aquanaut after all, but there was something in him that demanded he push the limits.</p>
<p>Forget the sky, he'd shoot for the stars.</p>
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